Message-ID: <27294asstr$973523401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "Sean Farragher" <seanfarragher@msn.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <NEBBKECCILIDDPJFHMPOEEBBCPAA.seanfarragher@msn.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Importance: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6: Revised Chapter One Date: Mon, 6 Nov 2000 10:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/27294> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge 2001Ftxm6chapterone Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction http://www.txm6.com http://www.txm6.com/enfer http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon http://www.farragher.com TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only. Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher. TxM6: Taxi Murders Sextet: Genesis Murders, Chapter One SCREAM: Laurie Fallon raised the intelligent alarm. Her whole being bore down double sharp notes, peeling glass with her shriek. * * * The Gables Pub 1090 River Road Edgewater, NJ 11:20 PM -- Friday, April 10, 1992 Outside the Gables bar, set almost on the curb the music blasted along River Road almost to the Hudson River edge. It was an old, not too fancy but popular bar that featured live rock music and Wednesday through Saturday night female and once a month Friday night male strippers. It was a pick up joint and a place for lovers. Six foot tall, seven months pregnant, twenty-six year old Laurie Fallon walked slowly from the bar, swinging her car keys. A one-time exotic dancer and barmaid at the Gables, she often returned to chat with the affable owner, Lilly, and several of the regulars. Laurie was sad that night. Having fought with her boy friend Henry, who was now out of town, she didn't want to return to their empty apartment. Not even the swagger of the male strippers lifted her spirits. Walking alone down the black street to her parked car, she hated those five blocks. One of the club bouncers usually provided safe company for the strippers and barmaids who parked there. Leaving suddenly, sick of the place -- how she wished she could dance -- Laurie could not arrange the escort. River Road is a very dark street even with streetlights. All business closed by ten. The Hudson River barges and other debris on the left covered the beauty of the river until you reached the lot. Walking to the Gables at dusk, wanting to get there early, Laurie was glad she found one of the parking places closer to the street. At dusk when she parked, red and gold lights shivered off the windows of New York City skyscrapers. How different it looked just a few hours later. When the weather changes suddenly from clear to transparent fog all the lights and darkness merge into one of those black on black paintings she loved. Laurie remembered one last year at the Whitney. Henry had taken her to the museum for her birthday. Looking at the Rudolf Baranik paintings, she remembered how the least muted of them felt at first incomplete. She was disappointed. Watching it glow, it warmed her, and the feel of Henry's hand slightly rubbing her ass while they walked from painting to painting built into an uncontrolled passion. They made love openly in his car parked on a side street near the museum. She smiled at what she said as they made love, doesn't it feel like the old days when we fucked in your cab? Tonight, Laurie wished for a clear summer night. She wished Henry had picked her up in his taxi. She always felt safe with him even when she wanted to take risks. Watching the traffic pass to her left as she walked down the broken sidewalk, she thought of the moonlight and his arctic blue eyes. She wished for Henry's hands on her breasts. She felt her dress move up and down her legs as she quickly walked. Not wearing her usual silk bikini underpants, every step excited her. Aroused by the lights and the dark, she hated the thought of having to take care of herself. She did want a bath, and as walked, amazed by the lights of New York City just a mile across the river, she thought of sitting in her favorite chair, beckoning to Henry, and having him, tenderly take care of the ache that had built up since the last time they made love. Stopping for a moment at the point where New York City was visible again, Laurie admired the shadows the reflected lights cast against the water. Walking slower looking at all the details of the street she forgot how she had felt isolated and at risk. She wondered now why the blue stone palisade cliffs shimmered on such a dark night. A huge truck driving in her direction blew its horn. The driver briefly slowed and waved. Laurie ignored him, but walked faster. She smiled to her self. Breaking out of that trance, she suddenly felt vulnerable. It made her shiver. It muted the ache, but oddly intensified it. Almost at the parking lot, she watched the traffic and the magic of the night. She felt safe again. She realized that the rain and the slight fog had made this usual journey oddly exciting. Standing with one foot on the curb, she looked back at the Gables wondering when she would return. Laurie hated not being able to work. She liked showing her body to men and woman. Wouldn't it be kinky she thought. Stripping seven months pregnant. Know it would turn some of the guys on. She would ask Lilly if she could do it just once. What a fucker she would be. Staring into the headlights, she pinned her red hair up off her face and felt her sensitive breasts rub against the tight bra that almost protected them from feeling. Reflected against the green and yellow, almost ochre lights of closed gas station, she waited for a lone truck to pass, and then stepped slowly between the parked cars to cross. Suddenly a man wearing a black ski mask grabbed her neck and mouth from behind. Stalking her from the damp spaces between his van and the cab of a truck, he had missed her mouth with his gag. She screamed and bit his fingers. He pulled back. Laurie caught his face with her nails driving furrows from cheek to chest. His scream was pity by comparison. Laurie grabbed the man's ski mask, pulling it quickly over his head while suffering his kicks and shrieking curses. Screaming for help, falling down against the curb between the street and the parked cars she scraped knees and elbows; twisted by her legs, her easy dress split wide, riding up to expose her neatly trimmed pubic hair. "Well so its real," the man said as Laurie pulled the dress back to cover her legs. Laurie screamed louder and pushed the wool mask deeper. As the short but solid man beat and kicked her with his boot, she refused to release it. Endlessly she called for help. Screaming, she turned her back to him. Twisting her body, she pushed into the curb. Protecting the child she carried, Laurie drove the disguise deeply against her skin. "Bitch," he laughed. "No one's gonna fucken hear you." Laurie's scream ripped at the glass and concrete buildings bare and naked in the discarded waste of the Edgewater shoreline. As the earthquake continued inside, outside the man had stopped, wondering what he could do next now that the gag and ether were discarded. In that second pause, Laurie reached for his balls, missing them. Holding tightly to both his legs, she curled up inside herself. Laurie starred back at him, angry resolute. The short man stumbled, trapped in her long arms and legs. She dug her nails into the space above his black boot. He screamed a second and third time as she broke her nails in his skin. Pinning his foot, Laurie seemed to have stopped him. Stepping up, he said. "Shut the fuck up. No one will hear you." "Fuck you," Laurie shot back, but she stopped screaming. One last reach for his nuts failed. Thrown back, her legs open, sex bare, Laurie lost her balance. The man lunged through her legs, pushing them apart. His hand briefly ripped at her open sex grabbing for the ski mask that she held between her legs. Laurie twisted. She beat at his arms. Surprised by her bare pubis, he let go. Pulling back, he almost seemed afraid. Quickly closing her legs, drawing up her legs by her own hands, they paused. His wan smile was an empty bag. Laurie relaxed one last time. He reached quickly, spreading her legs. Laurie closed her thighs on his hands. He withdrew. Pressed against the rubbish, she reached for the fire hydrant as a last defense. Turning her belly into it, he kicked at her ass. He punched but missed twice. Watching his back, he looked back down the road at the bar. No one drove up. No one else had left. Breathing hard, he said. "Stop this shit." Laurie said nothing. The man fell back. His fists balled and tight. He searched down the road again. He was almost surprised that no one had helped her. He knew it had taken too long. This had never happened before. It was always fast and easy. Ether did the trick. Tape did the rest. Laurie screamed. Pulling herself up by the hydrant, she watched him kick at her almost as if it were happening to someone else. He moved in slow motion. Catching her mouth with his boot, Laurie let go. Her resistance crumbled. Sprawled to the street, her stomach half turned to the curb, She cried. "What's the matter cunt," he said. "No fight left. Fuck you too." "Go fuck your mother," Laurie screamed back. The man enraged, kicked her one last time square in the face. "That's for my mother," he shouted. Crumbling half conscious, looking up, he kicks her five six times in the ass and back. He blow hit harder. He avoided hitting her now unprotected stomach. Grit under her nails, the man's blood on her mouth, Laurie realized how much she wanted to live to save her child; she fell back, breathless. At that turn in the battle she submitted, sabotaged by instinct. Quickly taping arms, legs and mouth, he gathered the almost unconscious woman into his dirty white van. The man, later identified as one of the infamous, "Genesis Killers" did not notice that his ski mask had dropped from between Laurie's legs to the street. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+